


(another) step forward

by Darkfromday



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: F/F, Gen, Kachidoki: 100 percent farm-raised envy, Masumi kicks racism in the teeth in front of a live studio audience, Ray officially joins Team "Leo Sucks", Shun is ready for a fight 25/8, Sora would like to opt out of dueling please and thank you, Yuuto is running as far away from his time as Atem-Lite as possible, Yuuya is really really tired, Yuzu will sing whatever she wants thank you very much, saving my fics from the tumblr monster, welcome to therapy I'm Melissa Claire and I'm here to help you with your draconic thirst for death, what profit have a Professor if he gain the whole world but lose his soul?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 03:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16885164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkfromday/pseuds/Darkfromday
Summary: Prompt fills for the 2018 Arc-V Anniversary.





	1. day 04: courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuzu offers Shun a different perspective on bravery in peacetime.

When Yuzu found Kurosaki, he was doing push-ups in a private room. It sounded like he was overdoing things again, since he was somewhere in the hundreds and she’d only invited him to the gym ten minutes ago.

 _Annnnd it shouldn’t surprise me that he’s in here by himself_.

Still.

“Shun,” she called.

He stiffened noticeably on push one-hundred-five. She knew it wasn’t because he  _didn’t_  think she would find him, but rather because she had used his given name again. But she felt no inclination to go back to calling him “Kurosaki”, not since she’d absorbed Ruri. It felt dishonest to her—and perhaps to him too, since he’d never complained about the familiarity.

“You’re late, Hiiragi,” he grunted as he approached, looking for where he’d left his trademark coat. “You said you’d meet me in five.”

“Meet you in  _ten_ ,” she corrected, snatching his coat before he could and holding it behind her back. “And you made me look for you. Why didn’t you just meet me by the treadmills with Yuuya and Sawatari?”

Shun growled, “Give me my coat.”

“Answer my question first.”

“I came here to see what you wanted with me, not to socialize.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to  _socialize_ ,” Yuzu mimicked, huffily, surrendering his coat. “I’m not asking you to talk to strangers, Shun—just comrades.”

He looked annoyed. “Is  _that_  why you called me here?”

“Yes, it’s why  _we_  called you here—because we barely see you and want to know how you’re doing.”

“Hiiragi—”

Frustration made Yuzu snap: “You’re afraid, aren’t you!?”

His gold eyes flashed; annoyance became rage. “How dare you!”

“No, you  _are_ ,” she insisted, refusing to be cowed. “We all fought together against Academia, and even though you never liked us much, you at least came to trust us at your back. But now that the war’s over, you’re really saying you don’t want anything more to do with us?”

Shun roared, “You dare call me a coward?!  _I watched my family die!”_   When he advanced on her she couldn’t help but stumble back and fall on her butt. “Everything I cared about was stripped from me and it never came back. The scales fell from my eyes, Hiiragi. I saw that peace is never permanent—only training stays with you. You speak disparagingly about trust, but it is all you should rely on. I don’t— _need_ to be friends with any of the Lancers, I just need to be able to trust them when the next fight comes.”

Only after his outburst did he seem to notice Yuzu’s new position and freeze; she knew from the look in his eyes that it wasn’t her he was seeing. And honestly, her next words didn’t  _feel_  wholly hers, either.

“No one can have a life that’s just about fighting. Not even you,  _Kurosaki_ , no matter how good you are at it. You’re using training as a crutch to keep from connecting with people who  _already care about you_ … which  _is_  what someone who’s scared does.”

He just stared at her, still unnaturally frozen, unable (or maybe unwilling) to say sorry or say anything in his defense.

Yuzu just… sighed.

“It’s okay to admit you’re scared of  _making_  friends, not just losing them. Courage… isn’t something you only have on the battlefield. There’s bravery in opening up to people too.”

“…Yuzu,” Shun breathed, shifting uncomfortably from way up.

She shook her head and persisted. “The war’s over. There’s a lot of people who want to meet you and hang out now that the world’s not at stake. Are you up for the challenge?”

“ _Yuzu_.”

“ _Are_  you?”

Shun still didn’t answer her directly, or apologize. But after a minute, he did bend down, offer her his hand and help her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Along with "Running" and excluding "countdown", this should be the last of the things that aren't backed up anywhere.
> 
> Thanks in advance for reading! (Or re-reading, as the case may be.~)


	2. day 11: rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuya’s overwhelmed with challenges now that he’s a professional duelist. Too bad he doesn’t have an agent with more teeth.

“Yuuya-kun! You have a new appointme—”

_“No!”_

The strength behind that one word had Nico Smiley gaping at his client, unsure what to do or say next. But there was no such dilemma for their visitor.

“…I beg your pardon?” Akaba Reiji ventured.

“No,” Yuuya repeated, “absolutely not, no, nuh-uh. I’m booked solid. I can’t take on anyone else. I  _won’t_.”

His schedule was full of duels, no thanks to his own efforts and Nico Smiley’s eagerness to accept any challenges on his behalf. For the next two weeks he had duels with Sawatari, duels with Dennis, duels with Kachidoki,  _more_  duels with Sawatari…

Yuuya had rehired Nico to help him handle all the challenges he was getting from his rivals in the Youth League these last few months, but instead the overzealous man had watched them balloon exponentially with nothing but cackles. Yuuya was  _exhausted_ —and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to turn any of the guys down.

Until today. Reiji was just out of luck—he didn’t have the energy to go toe-to-toe with Maiami’s best duelist anytime soon.

The young president’s brow furrowed; from his tone, he didn’t sound ready to accept the clarification. “You’re… booked?”

“ _Aa,_ you’re not the only person who wants to duel me. I have  _eight_ happening over the next couple of weeks and—”

“Hmm. Let me see.”

“Ah–-!” Nico protested. “Akaba-sama, that is not yours to look at!”

But Reiji was already holding up the holo-screen with Yuuya’s prison sentence on it, tuning out any dissenting voices. His frown…  _deepened_ as he examined the names and faces.

“Surely you are not ranking me below Sawatari Shingo in terms of duel prowess,” he said coolly.

Yuuya rolled his eyes. “No, but I’m ranking you below him in terms of  _challenging me to a duel in a timely manner_. Couldn’t you have sent one of your…people down here to schedule this at the start of the tournament?”

“I’d hardly be so disrespectful as to send an intermediary to someone I consider a rival.”

“Reiji, we’ve only dueled three times in two years.”

“There was a war going on,” the CEO rejoined. “Now there is not. Pencil me in for Monday at eight.”

That last part was directed toward Nico Smiley, who dutifully reached for the holo-screen again, but Yuuya sputtered.

“Wh-what part of  _booked solid_ —”

He broke off at the pointed stare Reiji leveled at him, one fraught with disappointment and… a bit of mischief?

_What is he thinking?_

“When we duel on Monday,” Reiji eventually said, “I will push you further than Kachidoki Isao ever dared. I will perform Pendulum Xyz summons at a level Dennis Mackfield has yet to reach. And I will not need Action Traps or new cards to beat you as Sawatari Shingo will. Do you still want to override me on this, Yuuya?”

Nico’s head pinballed between them, stopping for a heartbeat on his charge. Maybe he could tell how tempting the offer was, how alluring every duel with his old comrades sounded, but  _especially_  a duel with the one usually so far out of reach, who still frustrated and fascinated him in turns.

For his part, Yuuya finally pillowed his head in his own arms and made a dying whale noise. And once he ran out of air to voice his fatigue and half-irritation he mumbled “ _Fine_ ,” making the other boy offer a satisfied smirk.

“Excellent. I look forward to our appointment. Rest well—you’ll need it.”

 _Stupid CEOs, used to always getting what they want_ , Yuuya thought, giving Reiji the finger. But he was already gone by the time his hand was up, judging by the lack of reaction, so he was forced to turn back to a gawking Nico.

“Uh, how much coffee can I safely drink to stay awake for two weeks…?”

 

 

Sawatari’s holo-screen rang right in the middle of a duel with Dennis that he was  _not_  losing, thank you very much, so he had plenty of time to yell for a pause and answer the call.

“ _Sawatari-san speaking~_ … A-Akaba? To what do I owe the—you  _WHAT?_ You  _scheduled over my duel with_ —how could you—Yuuya-kun and I— _stop laughing, Dennis!_ Akaba, just because your family has more money than—my dad  _runs_  this town— _don’t you dare hang up, we are having a discussion! A—a renegotiation! A—_ hello!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss Nico Smiley.


	3. day 12: school

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masumi has a stubborn bigot for a teacher.
> 
> Good thing she's stubborn too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the fact that Masumi is one of the few black characters in the show, and I’m often curious about the impact of race and class in a city like Maiami.

“Let’s review. Who can tell me how to define the exponential laws?”

Despite herself, Masumi’s hand shot up.

Oftentimes, like now, she forgot that she was not living in a perfect world. If things were ideal, Professor Lewis would call on her almost immediately; she’d answer the question, correctly and in detail, and be given brief praise before the lesson continued. And a similar scenario would have played out at LDS if she were there right now instead.

But since she was  _not_  in a perfect world by any means, only a prolonged awkward pause met her waving hand.

“Anyone? –- _No_  one can tell me any of the laws of exponents?”

 ** _I_** _can!!_  Masumi thought with no small amount of frustration, though she kept her face impassive and her arm aloft. Voicing her thoughts would bring nothing good.

Another hand crept up, timid, to try and end the class’s suffering; though it made a good portion of Masumi vibrate with familiar fury, it also sent a frisson of relief through everyone else, since it meant the daily standoff was over.

“At last,” Professor Lewis said, with a bite of cruel satisfaction underlying his words. “Someone who was  _paying attention_  last week. Yes, Tsukimoto?”

“Um… uh… o-one of the laws i-is, that an exponent raised to the power of another exponent equals…”

The boy mumbled on, struggling through the detailed explanations their teacher was so fond of while they resided in his algebraic dungeon. Every so often he glanced at Masumi as if to apologize, just like the other students caught in this months-long struggle, but as always she was too infuriated and unconcerned with their constant capitulations to notice.

She and Professor Lewis… did  _not_  get along.

Whether it was due to her… background, her family’s pedigree, her well-known dueling prowess or simply her unflinching intellect was uncertain—but Masumi knew that her year eight instructor despised her bold approach to learning in his class, and had ever since she’d innocently asked for further clarification, and demonstration of some quadratic formulas back in the first few weeks.

(She’d thought someone so pedantic would  _appreciate_  being questioned to the fullest extent in the name of being completely clear to his students. Apparently not.)

 _Old men like him despise being challenged_ , her father had said back when Masumi came home raging after a third straight day of being flat-out ignored by her own teacher. She almost thought he would tell her to back down, but he had ruffled her hair after saying it, told her not to give up, and even offered to have her transferred to Class 8-B if things got too unbearable.

At the time she demurred. Pressure like Professor Lewis’ made the best gemstones in the family business, and she didn’t want him for a single  _second_  to think he’d won and gotten her removed from his life like a tick from a dog’s rear. Even now, months on, her answer would probably be the same. Still—each day lifting her hand, knowing the right answers, and still being  _avoided_  chipped at her and robbed some of her shine.

_Professor Marco would never treat me this way._

Masumi shook her head rapidly.

No use thinking about LDS now.  _None_.

For though she hated Siegfried Lewis and how he taught and terrorized his classes, Masumi  _liked_  school. She  _liked_  learning, asking strong questions, working together with others to craft solutions out of complex problems, just like she did on the Solid Vision battlefield. Normally her eager attitude got her _fans_ , was all.

School was important, essential for her future, and letting one crotchety, backwards old man ruin it for her or stop her upward trajectory was  _out of the question_.

Tsukimoto finished his wandering, wavering explanation, which Professor Lewis vaguely approved before asking a follow-up question that stumped him—what negative exponents translated to. He’d missed addressing it in his monologue.

The question stumped the rest of the class too. All except one.

Masumi took one heartbeat of time to breathe. She shed her ongoing irritation with Lewis’ games, her disdain for being treated as a lesser student when her work was head-and-shoulders above her classmates’, and her thoughts of the school she  _was_  appreciated in. She put her placid game face back on, the one that would play any game, face any foe for as long as it took to win.

Masumi exhaled as the heartbeat ended.

And raised her hand again.


	4. day 15: audience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sora is a little bit nervous about performing again for the first time since he deceived everyone in the war.

The vending machine was out of suckers.

“This is a sign,” Sora moaned. “I can’t do this.  _Especially_  not without candy. Let’s go home before they call us up.”

Sakaki Yuuya gave him a look that was not filled with  _near_  enough sympathy for his plight. “How were you going to say all your lines with a sucker in your mouth anyway?”

“Same way I say everything else!”

“You’re stalling, Sora.”

“Am not…” he whined. But they both knew better.

It wasn’t that he was a coward— _far from it_ , and if anyone ever implied that he  _was_  he’d snap  _them_  in half like one of his suckers—but more than that he was a vastly different person than he’d been the last time he ‘performed’ in any way. His conscience was broken. No— _fixed_. Whichever meant that where before he’d delighted in spreading fear and panic, now he… didn’t.

Sora had been under  _deep_  cover before, and ending up at a performer’s duel school where his ‘ _shishou_ ’ put on masks to accomplish his missions was nothing more than a deliciously-fitting irony at that time. The thing was,  _now_  he was back in Standard of his own free will, truly friends with the same people he’d once deceived, re-enrolled at the very school he’d planned to leave in the dust, and about to duel that  _shishou_  to entice prospective students.

And, well, the  _last_  time he’d dueled in front of a Standard audience…

Yuuya leaned against the vending machine from the other side, subtly blocking Sora from retreating back down the hall. “This isn’t like before,” he reassured. “You’re not pretending and you’re not here to hurt anyone. No one out there is thinking about the war.”

_How did he know what I was thinking about?_

“When you first came to Maiami, what really made you choose You Show?”

Sora didn’t even have to think about that. “It seemed like it’d be fun.”

“ _Exactly_!” Yuuya exclaimed, clapping. “So get out of the past. If you should listen to anyone saying that, it’s me. Pull out your Des-Toy monsters and get out there!”

The younger boy grimaced.  _Oh no_ …

“ _Now_  what’s got you down?”

“What if the kids get scared of my monsters again?”

“Fusion Summon new ones! You bought some new cards for our duel, right?”

Sora’s grimace became a grin for the first time. “Oh yeah—I did!”

Yuuya grinned back. “Then what are we waiting for?”

He started jogging toward the arena, pulling something out of his pocket— _no_ , Sora thought.  _Not just something_.

A chocolate bar.

“ _Where did you get that_ ,” Sora half-demanded, half squawked.

“My house?”

“ _Yuuya_ , have you had that the whole time I was looking for candy out here?”

The Pendulum pioneer  _shrugged;_ Sora started calculating how long he’d have to chew on Yuuya’s arm to claim that bar.

“I got this for me, Sora. But if you want some, you can have it  _after_  we duel.”

_“Yuuya!”_

“ _If_  you beat me!” the older boy amended, breaking into a run with a laugh.

Sora sprinted after him without sparing any further thought for his cards or his nerves. His  _shishou_ had no idea what he’d started if he believed Sora wouldn’t beat down him  _and_ every student in You Show,  _with_ a smile on his face, to get that candy bar.


	5. day 17: family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world where Leo’s plot destroyed all of the counterparts but Ray, the oldest Akaba child re-evaluates what family means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reira identifies as nonbinary here and uses they/them pronouns.

_What a beautiful city_ , Ray thought.

Maiami was a jewel to her: rare, coveted, all the more beautiful because no city like it had ever existed before. The people were charming, the landscape was enchanting, and the duels were electrifying. There were so many good things to eat and exciting places to explore. Even watching the sun creep slowly down out of the sky this late afternoon buoyed her spirits. She had found nothing that dampened her mood.

“— _There_  you are, Ray.”

 _…Almost nothing_.

Despite her flash of irritation, Ray lifted her head from her hands, looking up to see her father’s smiling face. Akaba Leo rarely went anywhere without sporting some kind of coat or cape, but the unusually-warm springtime meant he now joined her wearing only his single-layered white shirt and pale slacks. Since the war’s end he had seemed lighter. Perhaps because he out of everyone else had gotten exactly what he wanted.

“Were you looking for me?” she asked, putting enough inflection in her words so the  _why were you_  went unsaid but not unnoticed.

“Of course. Nakajima informed me of your departure two hours ago. I thought perhaps you skipped dinner because you weren’t hungry, and yet…”

He gestured to her lap and the picnic supplies lying there: basket, blanket, drinks. All just as perfectly prepared as the sibling who’d made it for her.

Ray shrugged. “I already have other plans with Reiji and Reira.”

“Ah…”

She hummed, offering nothing else, lost in silent worry. Her phone hadn’t buzzed yet. Reiji was going to text when he and Reira were on their way from the office.

Ray’s siblings were another thing she adored about the new world, and about Standard in particular. Though both of them were understandably reserved around her, she loved everything about them. Reiji’s quiet demeanor and rigid determination, his devotion, his intense interest in mastering every interaction he had, whether professional or personal. Reira’s trusting smile, impeccable manners and blossoming temper, a sure sign of a fiercer personality than their last. Ray had connected to each of them through duels, drawing out their conversation and their comfort by beating them soundly at Fusion, Synchro and Xyz.

This evening’s picnic was another chance for Ray to spend time with them, drag Reiji away from his responsibilities at LDS and Reira away from their playdate… she just hadn’t expected to be followed out here.

When Leo finally sat next to her on the hill he asked, “Have you been avoiding me?”

He sounded hurt. And of course he would be—the one person he’d pushed an entire set of worlds away for, and she couldn’t stand to be around him for more than thirty seconds.

On top of that, he had raised her to be unflinchingly honest, and she was her father’s daughter.

“Yes, I have.”

He grimaced. “If you’re having problems adjusting—”

Ray lifted her hand, cut him off. “Nothing’s wrong with the world I made or my experiences in it. Maiami is charming; Heartland is comforting; Synchro’s City is electrifying. Even the town around Academia’s island is interesting enough. I’ve enjoyed exploring them all, but now I want to get to know my family.”

“But not all of your family.”

Ray’s eyes darkened; a familiar burst of anger licked at her insides, and she crushed the top of the picnic basket in one fisted hand.

“No, not all,” she agreed coldly. “It’s safer for me to remember you as you were before, in our world, because  _now_  you are a disappointment.”

“A  _disappointment!”_ Leo reared back, but rebounded quickly; the Akaba temper had flared in him too. “Ray, I am your  _father_.”

“In name only! Your deeds since I split Zarc don’t match the father I knew. How can you look people in the eye knowing you sealed them away, or sealed their friends, or their families? _How_ could you betray the people who cared for you?”

“Easily,” Leo snapped, “and I would do so again. For in case you’ve forgotten, I started the ARC-Area Project to save your life.”

Silence reigned a few moments after those words. The two of them glared at each other, raising the temperature around them, but Ray could not be cowed—in the end, it was her father who looked away first.

“My life was already forfeit,” she whispered. “I took the En Cards and went to destroy Zarc of my own free will.  _It was my choice_. I knew I would rather give my own life than live in a world without the father I loved—but you… were so selfish that you made my nightmare a reality.”

The once-mighty Professor flinched as though struck; when she focused her glare, he had tears in his eyes.

“How can you say that when I’m still here?”

“Because I don’t know this Akaba Leo,” Ray said bitterly. “This Professor in my father’s skin. The person who trained children to hunt other children, invaded the other worlds I made and separated to subjugate, the man who  _abandoned his own wife and son_  to bring back a daughter who no longer existed—snuffing out nine lives in the process… no, he’s not familiar to me.”

Leo shook his head, looking out at the sunset—even now, not daring to look at her. “I would wipe out more if it had meant your safe return, Ray— _more_. Akabas know how to sacrifice; it is in our blood, and it is how I knew that Himika and Reiji would carry on without me. It’s how I knew too that  _your_  sacrifice was too great, and one I _would not_ allow you to pay.”

“I’m an adult. You don’t get to decide anymore what prices I pay, what decisions I make. Instead, you need to focus on what you  _can_  change, what sacrifices you  _aren’t_  willing to make.”

“…Explain.”

“Father…” She massaged her temple, wearing down her frustration enough to go on. “You aren’t a stupid man. You must have noticed how hurt Himika-san and Reiji were by your leaving them—worse because of what you left them  _for_. Why do you think no one speaks at dinner, even after two years? Why do you think Himika-san sends you frantic messages every time you’re gone on business for more than a day—why do you think Reiji and Reira speak as little to you as they can manage?”

He looked like he would argue at first, but a moment later he bowed his head, acknowledging the validity of her words.

“Then you must know too that I’m lucky they don’t hate me for becoming your sole priority… before  _and_  after the war.”

“Ray, what happened in Union was not your fault,” Leo said softly.

“No, it  _was_ ,” she insisted, fiercely stubborn. “What came after was all my doing. I shouldn’t have trusted you to move on—I should have wiped your memories completely, so you could have been a real father to Reiji and Reira these past five years, a real husband who wouldn’t make Himika-san cry, a man who would have looked at the broken pieces of me and Zarc and felt  _nothing_.”

A few of her tears hit the basket. Her father was not the only one crying helplessly now. Sadly,  _this_ was what their relationship amounted to now for Ray—finger-pointing, bitterness, regrets. The moment her sacrifice had been invalidated, her confusion and horror had morphed into these feelings, and showed no signs of further evolution.

Leo broke their second shared silence.

“Daughter, you know I am a selfish man. No world has yet been made in which I would give up on you. But… whatever my previous words may have indicated, that does not mean I hold no regrets over the way I left things with my wife… or my son… or the child that also came to share my name. But between the two camps, I have  _had_  years with them, and  _lost_  years with you. Can you blame me for choosing to not waste any more time with you?”

“ _Yes_ , I can!” Ray cried; he was missing the point again. “Because  _they’re your family too_. Everything doesn’t have to be a choice between two sides! I won’t allow Reiji and Reira to lose in your heart because of me, even if you will.”

“So then, you expect me to leave you here now, and ignore your presence hereafter?”

“I expect you to  _go home to your wife_ ,” Ray growled. “Truly apologize to her for what you put her through. I expect you to challenge Reira to a friendly duel to get them out of their shell around you. I  _expect_  you to take the reins back at LDS so Reiji can enjoy what’s left of his childhood, and spend some time with him outside of the office! Those are just a few things you could do to convince me that my real father is somewhere in you.

“But for now—yes, I  _do_  expect you to leave me alone here to wait for my evening picnic with the other members of my family.”

Leo looked at Ray for another long, long moment, but before he could voice his thoughts once more, a honk jolted them out of their heated conversation: a sleek limo had just pulled up to the bottom of the hill.

The door opened and Akaba Reiji emerged one leg at a time—slim, polished, and much too careful for a young man his age.  _Much too somber too_ , Ray thought, feeling fondness and sympathy war within her before she noticed he was holding someone in his arms.

Then she beamed—it was Reira, waving delightedly up at her, looking so excited for the picnic they’d planned together.

“Ray! We’re here!”

“Up here!” she called; already her voice and heart felt lighter. Though she’d long since accepted her own original sacrifice, being alive again to meet her siblings and grow with them was nothing to scoff at, no matter how much she disapproved of her father’s methods.

In moments Reiji was up the hill and kneeling at her side to put Reira down. He bowed his head, the spitting image of the father he hadn’t yet noticed. “Apologies for the lack of notice. My phone died en route.”

“That’s all right. We were just…”  _Arguing_. “…talking.”

 _That_  got Reiji to notice his father, and offer him a perfunctory greeting while Reira hid in Ray’s shirt. Likewise, Leo’s “hello” was stilted and hesitant, but at least seemed more authentic than the distant effort he gave at home.

Reiji cut straight to the chase after that: “Are you going to be joining us?”

“I… will not,” Leo replied, stunning Ray. “Another appointment calls.”

When she followed his pale gaze, she saw that the limo driver had rolled down their window down to be seen. Akaba Himika gazed back at her husband, unflinching, unyielding, drastically different from the mother of Ray’s birth yet a fitting match for the man who oscillated between Professor, provider and parent.

Despite their open disagreement not a few moments before, Leo took a minute to kiss Ray’s brow, wishing her and the rest of his children farewell before starting down the hill and sliding smoothly into the passenger’s side of the limo. Ray exhaled—she was not foolish enough to think their discussion was over, but her father’s willingness to mend at least  _one_  fence made her feel less like she’d been sparring—and living—with a familiar stranger.

“Are you all right, Ray?” Reiji inquired. He sat right at her free side, a comfortable distance away, and ruffled Reira’s hair.

“I’ll be fine…” She smiled at him; she’d long since learned it was an expression he seldom had directed his way, and sought to fix that. “Thank you, Reiji.”

Reira emerged from her shirt and tugged at the nearest sleeve, gesturing to where the picnic basket handle nearby was still slightly smushed. “Ray, you didn’t eat without us, did you?”

“Of course not!”

Reiji smirked. Reira looked thrilled as they popped the basket open and dug in. As sandwiches disappeared into their mouth, they hardly noticed Ray and Reiji start to talk about their days, about the state of the duel circuit this year, and about the best places to go for some peace and quiet in the city that  _weren’t_  traceable by parents or bodyguards.

Ray preferred things this way, though. With her siblings around to share their city with her, with her family close by to help her sort out her chaotic feelings about the war and its fallout, Maiami was even more of a precious place than it would have been alone. Union was gone, and so many other good people from there and here were gone with it—but with some time, perhaps that would hurt less.

 _Maybe someday soon_ , she thought,  _I can eat a cookie with the same enthusiasm as Reira, or run a board meeting with Reiji. Try on suits with Himika-san and… have a civil conversation with my father. Maybe I can visit the places the war touched without crying. Visit the people who lost loved ones and offer them closure._

 _Yes. Maybe someday, when all can be forgiven, when we can sit down and eat together, we could be the type of family I was trying to save_.


	6. day 23: shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Melissa Claire used to be a therapist back in the United World?

One-thousand puzzle pieces.

Of all the punishments Zarc had imagined in his mind, all the ways he would be brought low, he had not come close to picturing this scenario: himself, sitting on a plush couch in a plush office, staring at a table that had one-thousand disjointed puzzle pieces strewn about on it. It was beyond bizarre.

At the same time, the fact that he  _couldn’t_  have envisioned this in his wildest dreams, that he never could have invented in his head a woman with such a bland name, and the branching fact that she was supposed to  _counsel_  him about what he’d done made this so much more real than what the rest of the world was up to.

“Is this meant to be a metaphor?” he asked her now, waving a hand disdainfully over the table.

“No, not a metaphor—” The woman sitting across from him on her own plush couch gave him a gentle smile. Since she wielded no pen or clipboard, the only shiny thing on her person was her badge, which read  _Melissa Claire, M.D._  “More like a tool. Something to help us conceptualize what you’ve said is going on in your mind.”

Zarc smiled back, but made sure that smile had some teeth. “I think I was clear when I said my mind wasn’t fracturing—”

“‘But that I feel fractured’,” she finished for him, undeterred. “As I said in our last session, I agree that there is a difference. However, the families of the duelists you’ve maimed might  _not_  agree.”

“I don’t care if they agree or not. They are part of the problem.”

“And what is the problem with them, Zarc?” Doctor Claire prodded.

But he didn’t answer; only hummed tunelessly, and changed the subject. “I told you when we met that I’m only interested in one game. Puzzle resolution is not that game. Why give me this?”

“Creative problem-solving. Doing something simple on the outside could help you make sense of what’s going on inside. It will give your hands something to do, too.”

 _Because I need to be distracted or entertained?!_  He bristled visibly. Even the mention of entertaining a crowd these days brought rage to his mind and bloodlust to his heart. A ridiculously lengthy and complex puzzle would not,  _could not_  do anything for him, and this doctor was a fool for thinking this would help. Nothing would help.

And it was not Zarc who needed help.

“Humor me,” Doctor Claire said. “Start finding matching pieces. Look at the pictures they form. Tell me what we’re missing.”

A rumble in his mind:  ** _Yes, go ahead, king. Humor the little doctor_**.

Grimacing, Zarc grabbed a few similar-looking pieces and pushed at them, searching for patterns in the minuscule pictures. With a few he got lucky; with most he didn’t, leading to more frustration, which led to more whispers in his mind from the creatures he employed most in battle these days.

_/This is a fabulous exercise for toddlers. But what does it have to do with freeing us from the torment of dueling?/_

**Duel her, young king. Add her blood to our tally. Though she looks like she wouldn’t know which end of a duel disk went on her arm first.**

_-No, no more duels! I’m so tired of fighting.-_

‘But the thrill! The excitement! This is what they said they wanted. We have to give the people what they want.’

“Hush,” Zarc hissed, not realizing he’d said that out loud.

“Pardon?”

“This is pointless,” he snarled, gesturing to the table. After somehow connecting maybe ten sets of ten pieces across the whole expansive mess, he was no closer to understanding whatever point she was trying to make. “Creating some flowery bird picture is not going to save my monsters from the fools who’ve tormented them.”

Doctor Claire steepled her fingers together. Though she didn’t frown or show any other kind of displeasure, her patience with him seemed to have wavered. “This isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned saving your Duel Monsters—or finding other people problematic. Zarc, you…  _do_ realize that your monsters are just cards, right? Even when they’re destroyed in a duel, they’re not in any real danger.”

The words sent him into a rage; he swiped a hand across the table, dismantling the pieces he’d already connected and knocking several more piles on the floor besides.

“ _My monsters are just as real as I am_.”

“You can touch them, yes,” the doctor agreed, barely flinching at his show of temper, “but that’s due to the Solid Vision. They can’t feel pain—”

“That’s a lie!”

Zarc leapt off the couch, towered over her. There was a flash of red in his gold eyes. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.  _I_ feel their pain. Their anguish. Their  _fury_! Real Solid Vision has poisoned humanity—now people see their monsters as beasts of burden only,  _things_  they can run ragged with no consequences.”

Doctor Claire remained still in the face of his rage, but the sparkle in her brown eyes was dimmed from the start of their session. Just watching her  _sit there_  on that couch, acting like she knew what was happening in the world better than  _he_ did, made him want to pull his dragons from his deck and offer her to them as a sacrifice.

 _She’s just like the other people—monsters—in this world. Trying to make_ me _look mad, when they’re the mad ones_.

“If I don’t know what I’m talking about, why don’t you explain what you mean?” the young woman suggested, re-adopting a soothing tone. “Remember, I’m here to help you, Zarc. That involves understanding what you may be going through.”

 _She would never understand,_ Stargazer Magician mused. On that Zarc completely agreed.

But Timegazer dissented, with unusually dark amusement in their voice.  ** _Tell her. Why not? Every king needs a messenger. Let this one warn the rest of what we’ll do if we’re not heeded_**.

The idea had no initial appeal. But the more Zarc thought about it, the more he warmed to the plan—because it was either that or waste the last thirty minutes actually trying to finish that stupid puzzle.

“I can hear and feel my monsters,” he said slowly at last, as though explaining basic math to a small child. “Ever since those scientists gave Solid Vision mass, my dragons have called to me. They have  _begged_ me to stop the Real Solid Vision duels, by any means necessary, so they and all other duel spirits can stop being hurt.”

Doctor Claire  _hmmed_. “So… they’re like pets?”

“ _No!_  They’re my  _partners_.”

“Which means you respect their wishes.”

“Above all else.” Were they getting somewhere?

“So then…” she blinked. “…why not stop dueling?”

…

…

_What?_

“You are the world’s undefeated champion,” Doctor Claire summarized, “you have a lot of influence on what people do,  _and_  you need a viable reason for why you hurt those other duelists that holds up in court.  _I_ believe that the monsters you have might want you to stop fighting, but no one else would accept… duel spirits at face-value. So why not say that the recent tragedy has caused you to see dueling in a different light, one that makes you not want to continue?”

Zarc clenched his fist.

“Doctor Claire. If I stop dueling, what happens to all the other monsters suffering under the heel of their masters? You honestly think  _every duelist in our world_  will destroy Real Solid Vision and stop dueling on my say-so?”

“They might.”

 _They would not_ , Stargazer hummed gravely.  _Kings that give unpopular directives are ostracized. Or executed._

- _So we have to keep fighting…?-_

Zarc slumped back down onto the couch. His eyes still blazed, but his voice had lost some of its steam. “‘Might’ is not a word I’m willing to pin my hopes on.”

“Then what will you do?” Doctor Claire asked. “Motivating others may be the only way you can peacefully resolve this ‘problem’. If you say that asking the people to stop dueling won’t work, what other solution is there?”

For once, the answer to that was simple.

Zarc knew what he’d have to do to stop the voices in his head and end his monsters’ suffering; he’d known for some time. The crowds urged him to do it, his dragons urged him, his magicians, even his own aching mind knew drastic measures were necessary to save his partners. The only way to stop the splintering of his psyche was—

He smiled another toothy smile.

“Zarc?”

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, as he pulled six cards out of his pocket to hold close. His smile turned sinister. “Tell the ones running the tournament that I’m just fine to continue dueling. I… already have a solution in mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand then everyone got murdered, because no one in YGO seems to be able to remember that monster spirits are _real_ and _want things_ from one generation to the next. yay!
> 
> Zarc's peanut gallery:  
> bold italics: Timegazer Magician  
> regular italics: Stargazer Magician  
> /\\- Clear Wing  
> regular bold: Starve Venom  
> \- | - Dark Rebellion  
> ' ' - Odd-Eyes


	7. day 24: melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuzu is preparing for a holiday show when she gets a pleasant surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuzu is singing [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yfaABOTyAa8>this%20song</a>.%0A%0A<a%20href=).

“ _Ky – ri – e, é – le – i – son…”_

The music room reverberated with sound as the call went out, and then vibrated again with the response of the recorded choir responding in pure synchronization.

_Kyrie éleison._

Yuzu waved her fan as she would a conductor’s baton, pretending to direct the choir belting their part out from the practice CD and self-direct her own half-confident trilling.

“ _Kyrie~—éleison~—”_

 _Kyrie éleison_.

She pitched her voice higher for the next part, unduly excited now that she’d mastered it—

“ _Christe éleison, éleison!_   _Christe éleison, éleison_ —”

“ _Él – e – i – son, él – e –i – son, éleison_ —”

-–only to startle as another voice joined hers on the downward melody without warning. Yuzu had had her eyes closed to absorb the accompaniment, and when she opened them Koutsu Masumi was standing across from her in the room, staring closely at her parted lips.

“—ack! W-What are you doing here?!”

“Following your voice,” Masumi replied, wrinkling her nose. “Well. Mostly. Until you squeaked on that last part.”

“I did not squeak!” But Yuzu pouted even as she flushed, noting that her rival did not look convinced. “You… startled me, is all. I didn’t expect to be found down here this late after school.”

“And I didn’t expect to find you here.” The Gem-Knight user gestured to the acoustically-pleasant room, one neither of them normally spent much time in, before crossing her arms and making an effort to  _sound_ cross too. “I didn’t know you sang.”

“I’m… sorry?”  _Not like it would have come up in one of our duels!_  “It’s not a big hobby of mine, I’m just practicing for part of a show. You Show performs every year at the convention center for the less fortunate.”

Masumi nodded. “That makes more sense. While your vowels are crystal-clear and your diction is fine, the song doesn’t seem to be to your taste.”

She sat down after that pronouncement, humming along with the rest of the song once it resumed. Yuzu was dumbfounded. This may have been their first conversation about something that wasn’t Duel Monsters, but (sadly) it  _wasn’t_  the first time she was struck speechless by something Masumi had done or said, and this time she found herself blushing again following yet another backhanded compliment from this girl.

The only way to save face in these situations was generally to mess with Masumi right back—so Yuzu rolled up her sleeves and plopped down next to her rival, smirking when the other girl glanced quickly at her and away. For a little while she had the upper hand.

“Hey—if you’re not into faithful hymns, I’ve got some dance music on here we can listen to.”

Trading her fan for the speaker’s remote was the work of a moment. In the next moment, the reverent choir was replaced with youthful, warbling reggae.

“ _And another one bites the dust_ —”

The sterner girl’s lips twitched. “Sia?”

“Hey, my nearly-soundproof room, my rules.  _I’ve got thick skin and an elastic heart~_ …”

Yuzu expected to be mocked anyway, so her surprise doubled when Masumi hummed this song’s tune too along with her words. Though they only got through one verse before her rival ‘politely’ requested some other song, just being able to sit by her side for a while, trading notes and barbs, made Yuzu’s insides warm and fluffy.

“When is the show?” Masumi asked once the music fizzled out.

“Next Saturday.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there.”

Yuzu smiled wryly. “In the audience… or on stage with me?”

Masumi took Yuzu’s hand. For the first time, she smiled openly.

“Whichever one motivates you most to do your best.”


	8. day 26: envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kachidoki wrestles with how to move on, and if he should.

Kachidoki Isao’s graduation from Ryozanpaku was… not what he’d anticipated.

For one, it was quiet.

For another, he recognized his parents cheering him on in the crowd.

That last detail seemed minor, but it had thrown the last year of his life on its head. It was well-known throughout Maiami City that students who enrolled in Ryozanpaku were  _literally_  on their own until they earned the right to see their parents again as graduated Pros. And yet—the last year following the war had brought change. More anger. Less tolerance. Cries for peace and reunion, by any means, overrode the longstanding tradition of Kachidoki’s school, bending the reed until every student was allowed to see their parents—one weekend a month.

A small step, but one that many of the younger kids especially appreciated.

Kachidoki didn’t know how he felt about it. Seeing his mother’s watery smile, feeling his father clap him on the back… for years he had tempered and fanned his rage in turns by taking his feelings out on his opponents. Those shallow weaklings  _had_  to be the reason why his  _sensei_  pushed them so hard, why they never got breaks, why he didn’t remember the faces of people from his old neighborhood.

Beating their weakness out of them was doing them a  _favor_ —or maybe it helped Kachidoki beat his own weaknesses out of himself. He could never quite decide.

Still. Now that time with his family wasn’t an ultimatum held over his head, Kachidoki had believed the fire simmering in his belly, the unstoppable rage that fueled his punches and kicks in battle, would ease and fade. But instead, he just felt… lost. And burning still.

He’d lost so much time he could have spent being a normal kid, one who went from school to duel school with a brown bag from his mother and a collection of quirky friends. And thanks to his offhand decision to snatch vengeance from an old foe by joining a terrifying, unscrupulous army,  _friends_  in general were in short supply.

It was almost impossible to win at everything—to be a lover and a fighter.

All this was why Kachidoki found himself sitting on the edge of a building one summer afternoon, three weeks after graduation, watching a few of those Lancers.

–-And by  _a few of those Lancers_ , yes, he mostly meant Sakaki Yuuya.

The Pendulum kid was arm wrestling that music girl, Hiiragi Yuzu, yelling something about not going down easy. Next to them, the little Fusion boy Sora was trying to get the Steadfast master, Gongenzaka, to join him in betting on the victor.

None of this scene on its own would have bothered Kachidoki—but the presence of both Sakaki’s parents and Hiiragi’s was what burrowed under his skin, made him feel strange.

Sakaki’s father was laughing heartily, watching everything from a tall chair like the circus conductor he dressed as. His wife was sprawled out on a biker jacket spread out over the sand, reading some magazine as casually as can be. Meanwhile, Hiiragi’s dad alternated between cheering for Yuzu and trying to convince everyone to eat something before they went home.

Kachidoki swallowed hard, rubbing his chest.

 _I didn’t have it right_.

He’d thought the burning feeling racing through his veins was residual rage, violence—something he could expel. It was not. Jealousy could not be externalized.

Even if he headed home right now, he would not be greeted by this same familial camaraderie. Though very pleased to have him back, his parents were still stilted and awkward around him, and he around them. It would take time to approach even a facsimile of…  _this_.

Honestly—he should have recognized this feeling. It had reared its head once, years ago, when Kachidoki watched Sakaki Yuuya and his father duel happily together, a concept so completely foreign that Kachidoki’s chest had… burned. But he’d foolishly labeled it as anger, turned it into a searing determination to face this joyful boy one day and crush him. Make him feel just as dark and lonely.

 _That’s why I failed_.

 _…And why I’m still failing_.

He turned around and hopped off his perch. A facsimile he could turn into something real was better than staying here, watching what he didn’t yet have. Kachidoki had spent too much of his life already being envious of others without knowing why. Better to make  _himself_  a figure of envy instead.

Fishing out his phone, he texted his parents:

_“Be home soon.”_


	9. day 30: journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Yuuto was ‘motivated’ back into his own body during the Xyz arc, and decides to go separate ways from his involuntary aibou.

Yuuto clicked his suitcase shut. “Done.”

Well—it was less of a  _suitcase_  and more of a snap bag, but wartime did that—condensed possessions, snatched away friends, ushered in grieving. Turned people into unrecognizable forms of themselves.

Sometimes in actuality.

Sayaka was looking mournfully at him as he moved around gathering rations. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

He nodded shortly. It wasn’t his intention to hurt her again by leaving her behind once more, but recently he’d realized that sitting still here was _also_ not an option for him.

“You don’t have to go,” Sayaka persisted. “None of us want… to be without you again.”

She looked as though she might say more, but trailed off. Yuuto recognized the look and the feeling from a few hours ago, when the sight of violence against his  _home_  and his  _friends_  and his  _duel style_ brought him roaring out of hibernation and incorporeality like a dragon reasserting claim of its hoard. Though he’d been stuck intimately within his unintentional host for months, he too could not find any words to say to Yuuya beyond a long-overdue farewell.

Not words that would have encompassed all his feelings, anyway.

So instead Yuuto said, “I don’t want to leave again either. But we still haven’t found Ruri and… I mean, I’ve lost a lot of time.”

That phrase was littered with multiple meanings.

Sayaka paused before nodding slowly and sitting down in the hollowed-out shell of some lost soul’s home. “I understand. But—the ones from Standard, those Lancers, are here now. If you don’t go with them to take Heartland back, where will you go? Back to Standard? To that Synchro city?”

He closed his eyes.

 _That’s the part I didn’t want to tell you_.

Since Academia had invaded their shores, Yuuto had done his best to follow Shun’s example in taking the fight back to them—meaning wipe out enemies, clear the path for rebuilding much later, find Ruri, and  _definitely_   _not_  let their friends know how dire and dangerous things were for them in the other dimensions.

The thing was, that involved  _lying_  to their friends—making the world seem better than reality—and Yuuto was just as tired of lying as he was tired of fighting. He was tired of everything.

(The past few months’ rest notwithstanding.)

“Where, Yuuto?”

Yuuto held up a card that still hurt to look at—one with Kozuki Allen’s terrified upper profile frozen forever in time on its front. Sayaka flinched as he replied: “I’m going to Fusion. To get  _all_ our friends back.”

This sick present had been ‘gifted’ to Yuuya, and Yuuto through Yuuya, while they were out on a desperate mission to rescue some helpless families and reclaim territory for Xyz. Allen had gone along to guide Yuuya (unnecessarily; Yuuto was  _there_ , he  _knew_  Heartland), and it had all gone wrong from there.

And right, too, for though Allen had lost his life, Yuuto had gained his back in the face of such vicious injustice. And he’d grown strong enough to never be locked behind anyone or thing in the pursuit of justice again.

The sound of another pack hitting the floor startled him out of his thoughts: Sayaka had hopped up from her seat and started throwing granola bars into it, and blankets, and a couple of pants…

“I understand why you don’t want to travel with Yuuya right now, but if you go by yourself, you’re as good as dead,” she said. “I’m coming too.”

Yuuto looked out the windows at his half-empty home. In his mind’s eye, he replayed the scene from earlier today, where he had to walk through the door of the safehouse across the way, look Sayaka in the eyes, and shake his head at her in the code every rebel understood meant one more comrade down.

He imagined telling her it was still too dangerous for her to come along, and then coming back home again in some not-so-distant future where Kaito held  _her_  likeness up to him on a flat card and shook his head in the same way.

He imagined it, and then chose another path.

“…Then you’d better get your deck and finish packing,” he said.

She was right, after all; on this journey, only a different kind of teamwork would bring success. And Yuuto was looking forward to a little something different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading~!


End file.
